My eyes are deep as oceans. Skin like salt. My hands, shaky, carefully feeling my heartbeat through a chest of leaves. I touch everything, leaving my fingerprints on cold metal bars. The lump in my throat. Cloaked in cigarettes and coffee. Erasing memories imprinted in cavities. X-ray’s can’t prove anything. Eternal rainstorms on the train tracks and the shoes we wear to walk them.